


Pink

by notjustmom



Series: Colours [4]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: A Study in Pink references, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-02
Updated: 2016-08-02
Packaged: 2018-07-28 21:26:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7657324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notjustmom/pseuds/notjustmom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One can assume the case is canon, everything else, not so much.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pink

Later, John would realise how nervous Sherlock had been at their second meeting in front of the flat. Later, as John held him in his arms as the detective drifted off after the most ridiculous day, not even a day, it had been just a few hours, he understood how lonely Sherlock had been. John pulled him tighter against his chest and swore he could feel those pink, kiss-bitten lips smile against him, even as he tumbled into sleep.

 

"Mr. Holmes."

"Sherlock, please." Sherlock smiled briefly and shook John's hand, then introduced him to Mrs. Hudson, who glanced at John, then at Sherlock and nodded to herself, before they went up the steps. All seventeen of them, he muttered to himself shaking his head as Sherlock flew up them, yet he stood there patiently, waiting to open the door to his new home. Home. A mishmash of wallpaper, bits and pieces, books and knickknacks. And a chair. Probably had been a deep red once, now faded to a warm pink, covered with a soft grey plaid throw, and a Union Jack pillow. Intended to be his chair, placed across from Sherlock's more modern steel and black leather. He didn't consider the placement or the implications as he all but fell into the soft cushions that seemed to be made for him. He hadn't climbed that many stairs in months. He closed his eyes for a moment then opened them as he heard footsteps run up, two at a time.

He watched Sherlock's face change as Lestrade all but begged for his help, then departed; like a boy, who had been rattling the Christmas packages for days, then running down the stairs on the morning of - 

" - four serial suicides and now a note! It's Christmas!"

 

After everything was said and done, mostly done, after the dim sum, they decided to risk a cab ride home. Sherlock was almost positive the one that drove them home wasn't a serial killer, just had a bit of a gambling problem, and too many ex-wives, along with a current one, already cheating on him; nothing to worry about. He then all but dragged John up the stairs, and through the door, then stopped suddenly, letting go of John's hand. "That thing I said, back at Angelo's, I panicked. This. This - relationship, thing, whatever it is - I don't, never have, never wanted it before with anyone ever."

"Breathe." 

Sherlock took a breath and blew it out slowly.

"We'll go slow."

Sherlock nodded, then shook his head.

"I don't want slow, I just need you to know, I haven't -"

"Shhh -" John placed his frozen, but calm hands on Sherlock's softly pink flushed cheeks, glanced up into his eyes, then pulled him into a gentle kiss, little more than bringing their mouths together, but it was enough to almost take him to his knees. 

"Is it, like that, usually?" Sherlock whispered against John's lips after a long silent moment.

"Uhm, hmm. No. Not for me. Shower, or - "

"Bed, please?" 

 

They both needed to see the other's eyes the first time they touched each other. John watched as Sherlock's glowing eyes slowly went dark, then heard his breathing change as he felt the detective's elegant, calloused fingertips press harder into his thighs, there would be at the very least pink marks in a few hours, but he did not care. All he cared about was loving the man beneath him, the pale trembling figure who was biting his bottom lip uncertainly until his eyes popped open and he began moaning John's name as if it had become the only word he knew. 

"Let go, love. I'm here, I have you."

"It feels, it feels..."

"Like?"

"I'm falling, John. Will you catch me?"

John nodded and kissed him as Sherlock shivered suddenly and wordlessly came into John's fist. John held on to him as he sobbed quietly, then stilled.

"Let me get us cleaned up, yeah?"

"But, you didn't - "

"I did, love, just watching you -"

"But I didn't touch you."

"Yes, yes, you did, love."

Sherlock's eyes glittered as he smirked. "Should've known you were a romantic."


End file.
